


The one where Captain Future saves Radium Girl

by subobscura



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bones is not a damsel in distress, Crack, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Meta, Porn With Plot, Porn in a plot sandwich, Romance, That sounds a bit gross actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-09-03 12:17:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8713648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subobscura/pseuds/subobscura
Summary: "What the hell are you on about," hissed Bones, squirming against the bands and flexing his biceps in a way that was totally not at all distracting. He raised an eyebrow sky high. "What's a Radium Girl?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Vintage Pulp sci-fi cover at the Kirk/McCoy Imzy community, and it got...a little out of hand. There's sex! There's really kind of a lot of foul language! There are offensive stereotypes of pretty much everyone and blatant sexploitation of Karl Urban! 
> 
> Dedicated to all the lovely ladies I've had the pleasure of getting to know including infiniteeight, scramjets, arrowinthesky, miss_neko, PeachesandBones, Lai, and anyone else I'm forgetting to mention because I'm kind of an asshole. Sorry?

**The one where Captain Future saves the Radium Girl**

** **

 

When Bones disappeared during hour three of an eight hour survey, Jim did not lose his shit. Much. He thought he was pretty subtle about it all things considered. Bones had stepped out of the decrepit installation with a gruff "back in a few," which was code for "gotta find a corner to pee on," and that was that.

When he failed to come back or check in after twenty minutes, Jim stepped out into the dusty courtyard and shaded his eyes. "Have you seen Dr. McCoy, Lieutenant," he asked Kai Vondem, who was standing watch outside, looking as bored as an Orion could look.

Kai looked up from where he was cleaning the shielding manifold of his phaser cannon, appearing a sickly pea-green in the post apocalyptic twilight of the nuclear devastated world they were investigating. "No sir," he answered smartly. "He came out about ten, twenty minutes ago for a piss break, haven't seen him since." He shrugged and pointed to the north end of the facility. "He went that way."

Jim wanted to shake Kai, ask him why he hadn't gone to check on Bones. But Jim also knew he might be freaking out prematurely. It was not unheard of for Bones to wander off during an away mission, mostly because he was as curious and foolhardy as Jim, though the sonofabitch consistently refused to admit it. Why he would do so here was a bit of a mystery, though.

It was an abandoned military installation from the early 2100's, back when a lot of colonies were still using nuclear weaponry. Two factions had gotten into a dispute and annhilated each other, apparently not seeing the wisdom of Mutually Assured Destruction theory. _Enterprise_  was doing an archaeological survey and assessing the suitability of the planet for environmental rehabilitation and recolonization. Kicking at the sterile dirt, Jim thought that was gonna be a great big NOPE, but hey, what did he know? He was just the Captain.

Point being, the only reason Bones was here was to monitor their rad exposure. There were no interesting medicinal plants or medical diplomacy to conduct, just straight up doctoring that could probably be accomplished by a technician. Frankly Jim was expecting a lot of bitching, but Jim's name had come up in the unofficial "Really Boring and Pointless Mission" rotation that he, Spock, and Sulu would deny under torture exists. And if Jim had to be bored, he took vicious satisfaction in making sure Bones was bored right alongside him.

Jim rounded the corner of the building, following the footsteps of Bones' long-legged stride, exactly where he said he was going. Then at a point halfway down the east wall, the footsteps just stopped, like some stupid horror movie. For a few minutes, Jim stared out at the featureless gray plain, like Bones would magically make a reappearance, making a sly joke and 100% not apologizing for giving Jim a heart attack. When nothing happened, Jim sighed.

Well fuck. Bones was gone.

On the plus side, the mission had just gotten more interesting.

 

~*~*~*~*

 

"The doctor's vital signs are still intact," Spock's voice came crisply through the earpiece of Jim's tactical headset. He'd opted to stay up and hold the conn and coordinate the ground rescue and retrieval, while Uhura and Zahra beamed down in case they needed communications or extra security. "As the only other intact nearby installation is six miles away, that would be the logical location to start the search. Unfortunately due to the lingering radiation and high-atmosphere dust, we cannot simply scan for his life signs, but rest assured, Jim, he is still alive." Well that was something, Jim supposed.

He stopped short when he pulled open an ancient weapons locker, looking for any useful supplies or a topographical map. Oh HELL YES. He reached out and grabbed the 2090's-era Colt Radium-Indium handgun, petting it lovingly. Who cared that the shielding on it was shit and everyone who used one on a regular basis got cancer and died and there was a huge lawsuit and recall? Or that the Radium-Indium matrix was unstable and sometimes detonated in what was really a nuclear explosion the size of a decent tactical warhead? It was a bitchin' gun and now it was all Jim's. This mission had just gotten A LOT more interesting.

 

~*~*~*~*

 

They pulled up to the other installation on the field ATV's they were trialing for Starfleet Engineering, Jim and Uhura on one and Kai and Zahra on the other. It would have been more cool if they could dramatically brake in a cloud of dust ("Radioactive dust, Jim. Too much of that shit gets in your lungs and you'll be puking up lung soup," the Bones in his brain reminded him), but they were hovercraft and ran silent, so they all just landed their machines and anticlimatically climbed off.

Now that they could get a visual, Jim could see that Bones had been kidnapped by a weird looking mostly-silver bipedal alien with malevolent black eyes and long fingers. Who had subsequently tied Bones to one of the leftover nuclear warheads left on the base, and seemed to be preparing to launch it into the stratosphere.

Because of course he had, like that was a thing that happened to normal people. Jim felt a little sorry for whoever had to review their mission logs. If he hadn't seen this for himself, he's not sure he'd believe it either.

"Wow, that is one ugly motherfucker," Jim said, and Uhura looked at him askance.

"Captain, that is unbecomingly anthropocentric and xenophobic, and insults will no doubt be unhelpful in negotiating for Leonard's release," Spock's voice chimed in again, like a boring Vulcan Jiminy Cricket. Jim's eyes narrowed. So it was _Leonard_  now, was it?

"Stay out of it, Pointy," Jim scowled.

"That was anthropocentric and xenophobic as well, Captain," Spock sniffed. "But I shall endeavor to, as you say, stay out of it." There was a click and then the line went dead. Then hummed back to life three seconds later, filled with Spock's silent mortification that he'd allowed himself to get annoyed at Jim. Again. Heh. Score one for Jim.

Well, nothing to do now but get this show on the road. Jim stepped towards the alien, who had taken no notice of them, or who hadn't cared that they were there. "Greetings," Jim said, holding up a friendly hand. "I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise and representative of the United Federation of Planets. You seem to have absconded with my ship's surgeon, and I'd very much like him back please. Perhaps there's something else you're interested in?"

The alien, having been directly addressed, looked up and gave an unholy screech, followed by several clicks and rattles. The UT picked up on none of it, so Jim looked over to Uhura. She frowned, biting her lower lip and studying her tricorder readouts. She looked up and tried an approximation of the screech, which sounded like a cross between an angry bird and a dying Klingon.

The alien just stared at them, it's vertical eyelids flickering once in the orange-red light. Uhura shrugged. "Sorry, sir, I've got nothin.'" Jim frowned. That really hadn't seemed like her best effort and this was Bones they were talking about here.

Just then, the creature reached towards its belt and pulled out an honest to god remote control with an antenna and a big red button on it. It turned towards Bones and the rocket, and it didn't take a genius to figure out what was about to happen.

Jim pulled the RaI gun out with alacrity, forgoing his phaser altogether and pulled the trigger. Pulsed rings of RaI energy hit the alien at the same time Jim flew back three feet, thrown on his ass by the unexpected kickback.

He got up, laughing a little hysterically and brushing radioactive dust off the seat of his pants, and walked towards where the alien lay prone on the sand. When he reached it, he saw there was a six inch concentric hole blown in its chest straight through, still smoking around the edges. It was also very, very dead. So that was that.

 

~*~*~*~*

 

"Oh for fuck's sake," Bones groaned. "I'm a doctor, not a goddamned damsel in distress." He wriggled, pulling at the flat metal ties binding him to the rocket, but they were solidly in place. "Actually, I think this trope is Distressed Dude if you want to get technical," Jim said with a sunny grin. "What? Sam's minor ended up being 21st through 23rd century film and literature. It's not _my_ fault I have a mind like a sponge and I helped him with his homework for his fluffy degree." Bones stared at him with a flat expression of pure hatred and started pulling more vehemently at the strapping.

Scotty would probably have to beam down a laser cutter if they couldn't find a release mechanism. Of course...Jim could always use the RaI Gun on a lower setting. He'd even annoy Bones into bitching about low- level radiation exposure, and annoying Bones was high up on his list of favorite things to do.

Jim stepped onto the low platform next to the rocket. "But you make such a pretty Radium Girl, baby," he said, pressing his palm to Bones' freckles. Not that he would _ever_  say it out loud, but he was stupidly glad those freckles hadn't been blasted into space on an archaic flying chemical-propulsion bomb.

"What the hell are you on about," hissed Bones, squirming against the bands and flexing his biceps in a way that was totally not at all distracting. He raised an eyebrow sky high. "What's a Radium Girl? And I don't know how to break this to you kid, but I'm definitely of the XY persuasion. I'd've thought you'd remember that given this morning in the-"

"Yes, well-" Jim clapped his hands together, rudely interrupting Bones and glaring at him. Yes Jim was incredibly smug that he was fucking easily the hottest guy on the ship who also happened to be his best friend, but they didn't need to advertise details in front of the crew. Uhura and Kai and Zahra more specifically. And Spock on comms. Gross, just thinking about it made Jim feel like he was sharing sex details with Sam. No. "And didn't you watch Captain Future when you were a kid? He was a badass captain of a starship who always had to save the world and rescue Radium Girl. Little did you know it was like _actually_  looking into the future." He scanned around for some kind of cutting implement.

Bones shrugged awkwardly. "Must have missed that one, since I'm six years older than you. I was probably in college when it came out," he grimaced. "Plus I wasn't a juvenile delinquent who wasted his youth watching stupid unrealistic holos based on twentieth century misconceptions about space travel." Jim sucked in an affronted breath. He would not hear someone cast aspersions on Captain Future! That show was practically a documentary in Jim's opinion.

"Here you go, Leonard," interrupted Uhura sweetly while pressing a button, and with a glittery flash the metal strapping suddenly slithered into the metal casing of the rocket. She must be taking lessons from her boyfriend, Jim hadn't even heard her come onto the platform. And What. The. Hell. The rocket had been built to have someone tied to it as part of its operational features? That made no goddamn sense!

"This makes no goddamn sense," Bones scowled harder, rubbing feeling back into his hands and arms as they'd evidently fallen asleep while he was stuck in the same position for so long. "Wouldn't the uneven weight distribution throw off the flight path of the rocket and prevent escaping atmo?" He sat up, straddling the bomb so that his long legs could brace on the rocket platform. And wasn't that an image that would stick with Jim forever, Bones riding a rocket in reverse-cowboy. He smirked with glee, but at this stage in their relationship he knew exactly when to keep his mouth shut. Bones narrowed his eyes dangerously at Jim, knowing what he was thinking anyway. Deliberately, Bones turned back to Uhura. "Thanks for saving me, sweetheart," leaning to brush a peck of a kiss to her cheek.

Jim's mouth dropped open, incredulous. "Hey, I had something to do with it! Look there's an alien _right there_  with a smoking hole in his chest!" This...this maligning of Jim's efforts was completely contrary to established facts.

"No problem, Leo," returned Uhura, before making a smart pivot in her shiny Starfleet boots, whipsawing her ponytail so it smacked Jim in the face. She strode away, already pulling out her communicater to coordinate the ground cleanup and containment, not even a speck of dust on her impeccable uniform. Jim hated her just on principle.

Swinging a leg over the rocket, Bones stood and stretched out his lower back with a grunt, pressing his hands into his lumbar muscles. "Christ, I think one of those tail fins has been digging into my ass for three hours. Tell you what, though, I'm gonna qualify on phaser rifles. This is the very last time I'm playing Radium Girl to your Captain Dumbass." He shifted uncomfortably, then reached down to dig his uniform pants out of what had to be the most epic wedgie Jim had ever seen.

"Charming," Jim snapped, the awesomeness of the mission suddenly wearing thin. "What did the alien want, strapping you to the rocket like that? Did it ever stop to explain?"

"Fuck if I know," Bones shrugged, frowning and standing with his arms crossed miserably against the chilly air. It made his nipples peek up and say hello beneath that outstanding black undershirt, his overtunic having inexplicably been lost sometime during the transfer. But they still had Decon and mission debrief before he could justifiably maul Bones, who probably wouldn't appreciate the attention in any case. What a waste. Jim sighed.

He stepped next to Bones so the transporter lock would catch both their patterns, tucking the RaI gun into the back of his pants. At least he got a cool weapon out of it, even if Spock would make him file it in the historical artifacts archive. "Kirk here," he said, the headache beginning to throb behind his right eye. "Two to beam up."

 

~*~*~*~*

 

They get back and make it through all the post-mission hoopla before finally retiring to their quarters, and Bones decides he needs to immediately fuck Jim up against the glassy polarized room divider. Which is freezing against Jim's bare back, but hey, the true course of love ne'er did run smooth, love requires sacrifice, et cetera.

Bones pulls his replaced uniform shirts off with one hand behind his neck tersely ordering Jim, "get naked."

Jim smirks with a "sir, yes sir" and gets to where he's about to toe off his socks when Bones decides waiting is over. He walks over and picks Jim up from where he's sitting on the bed, hauling him up underneath his legs and bracing his hands on his back, pinning Jim wide and open like a butterfly on a slide. Jim squawks and grabs Bones' neck before he realizes what Bones is doing, then relaxes when the wall gives him some leverage to redistribute his weight comfortably without feeling like Bones is going to drop him on his ass. Jim knows Bones picked this position to manhandle him and show off his upper body and core strength, for which he works out religiously.

Whatever, Jim is strong too, he's just wiry, and Bones has forty pounds of solid muscle on him. He _could_  fuck Bones in this position if he wanted, he just doesn't feel like having sex with a high potential for lower back injury requiring surgical intervention. Which Bones would probably have to perform himself, laughing his ass off the entire time. Jim scowls and sniffs dismissively. There's a lot of other positions in which to fuck Bones when he's of the mind, which is often because Bones has a higher libido than Jim does, and that's saying something. ("Not all of us are obsessive attention seekers who need to publicly advertise every sexual exploit, Jim." Fair point, Jim concedes.)

Then Bones is undoing his pants with one hand, letting them slide to just mid-thigh and slicking up his cock with lube he magiced from somewhere. Jim wonders if he's started to keep it in his pants, and if so, who the hell does he think he is? _Jim_? Then he's sliding into Jim without any preamble or further prep, and fuck it's a good thing they had their little shower interlude this morning, or that would have been extremely unpleasant. Instead it feels amazing, full and hot and just the right side of too rough. Jim can't stop himself moaning deep and low in his chest, which has lust flaring in Bones' eyes, dark and smoky intense.

"You good," he asks, arching an eyebrow. "This ain't gonna last too long. Or be too gentle. Sorry." Bones' tone is anything but sorry, and apparently Jim's input isn't very necessary either, because before Jim can answer, Bones is shoving into him with a quick rhythm that has Jim gasping and whining with every thrust as Bones' cock slams unforgivingly into his prostate. Jim is almost immediately incoherent with pleasure, the hot/cold flush of orgasm already pooling low in his spine. Jim lolls his head against the wall. Not much he can do in this position but take it, which he's sure is also the point.

He slits his eyes open and watches them in the strategically placed mirror on the other side of the room. They do make a pretty picture, Jim thinks dazedly. His light to Bones' dark, their long gracile limbs twined together like friendly vines, the muscles in Bones' back and ass flexing powerfully with every thrust. Although Bones does have a spectacular constellation of bruises across his ass, which Jim tweaks with his heel by shifting his thigh up and out just a bit more.

Bones flinches and growls, "watch it, kid," but the new angle has the added benefit of setting stars off behind Jim's eyes, and before he can get out a barely whispered "Bones, coming," he is, painting stripes of come all over himself and Bones. Hell, it even gets on Bones' chin, Jim notes with some satisfaction. Bones shoves into him twice more, before he makes a baritone throaty noise and comes hot into Jim's ass, resting his cheek next to Jim's then nuzzling behind his ear and placing a soft kiss there.

They stay like that for a moment or two, but this position isn't actually that comfortable for anything but fucking, so Bones pulls out with a sigh and sets Jim gently back on his stockinged feet.

Like this, they're back on equal footing and of a height, so Jim leans in and steals a kiss, swiping his tongue over that lush lower lip of Bones' that drives him to distraction on a daily basis. "Better," he asks, arching an eyebrow right back at Bones.

"Much," Bones sighs, collapsing onto the bed with a groan, throwing an arm over his eyes. "Thanks," he says belatedly, like Jim isn't twisted around his little finger and would deny him anything.

Jim picks his way through the detritus of their lovemaking towards the head, come oozing wetly down his inner thighs, and not at all bow legged, thank you very much. He's studiously trying to ignore the wet dream currently lounging on their bed, dick still hanging out of his pants and come drying on his chest. Jim's dick really wants to get hard again, but alas seventeen is a long way back in the rear view mirror.

"You're welcome," Jim coughs, clearing his throat. "Gonna go clean up," he says lamely, pointing towards the head with his thumb. "I suggest you do the same, Doctor" he says, trying to inject some captainly authority back into his voice.

Bones peers at him from under his arm. "Aye aye, Captain," he smirks, noticing Jim's limp. Jim just rolls his eyes and turns around, happy that Bones is happy now that he's reasserted just who wears the pants in their relationship. At least for today.

"When you're done," Bones calls through the door, "we'll go down to Medical so I can treat us for radiation poisoning. Again. Hope you like blue koolaid!"

Jim hates it.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

When their shifts line up again, Jim takes Bones in their off hours to qualify on the rifle range. It's a bit above and beyond for the Captain to be signing off on phaser rifle qualifications, but...if Jim feels like slightly abusing his authority, there's no one here to stop him, is there? Except for the Ethics/Federation cadre officer on Deck 8, but Jim's pretty sure Bones is treating her for substance abuse since "Abuse of Captainly Authority" is basically the definition of how he runs his ship. Especially when it comes to Bones, not that Bones is complaining. (More than usual, anyway. With Bones, you have to grade severity of complaints on a curve.)

"So, can I help you with your stance or anyth-" Jim's cut off as Bones raises the plasma rifle to his shoulder with a cool assurance, firing in one smooth motion that ends with a cheery ping from the computer that tells them he'd hit the target dead center at five hundred yards equivalence.

"-thing," Jim finishes lamely. "Guess not," he frowns. He'd had loving fantasies of working with Bones to adjust his hips and his shoulders, and if he was a little more handsy than an instructor usually would be, well. Bones could have at least *pretended* to need help. Jim tries not to pout too obviously.

"Seriously, Jim?" Bones raises an eyebrow dangerously high. "You really thought I didn't know how to shoot a plasma rifle? I grew up in Georgia. On a farm. Shooting's recreational from the time you're big enough to hold a damn gun!" He raises it again, sights, and fires, hitting dead center of his first shot.

On the other hand...Jim does have a competence kink, and this is just another of the long, long list of skills that Bones is wildly good at. He pushes up against Bones, kissing his neck, smiling and whispering "A plus, number one," before taking the rifle from Bones' hands and setting it in the recharge stand in the booth. Then he grabs Bones by the hand, dragging him out while Bones simultaneously curses and says, "That's it?! We just got here. What about-?"

"Zahra," Jim calls. "Mark Bones as certified level 3 marksman on plasma rifles, equip and carry on any relevant away missions should he so choose. But make sure his primary specialization stays medical!" He grins brightly at Bones. Damn but he loves efficiency. "There! Done! Okay let's _go_!" Bones sighs, exasperated, but that's his usual state so Jim's not too worried. "Sorry Zahra," he calls over his shoulder, dragging Bones as quickly as his recalcitrant doctor will allow. "I have some personnel issues I need to get on top of with the CMO. In my quarters. I'll just-"

Zahra just smirks as she pecks into her console at the Range Technician's desk. "Aye, Captain. I've got everything under control here. I'll lock up." Are Jim's people the best or what? Okay, so Jim's not exactly subtle about fraternizing with his CMO, but that's like practically a Starfleet tradition at this point.

 

~*~*~*~*

 

It's six months after The Mission That Will Definitely Not Be Taught At Starfleet Academy before Jim bugs Spock to dig the RaI gun out of the archives, so he can bring it with him on an away mission where the planet atmospherics mean their frequency weapons might not be as effective.

"The doctor has already informed me, and I quote, 'I'm not decontaminating Jim for radium poisoning again. It means getting him to drink an unholy amount of blue shit that consequently turns his piss blue, and then I have to listen to 500 smurf jokes involving bodily excretions and puns.'" Spock lifts a prim eyebrow, even as his tiny smirk curls around McCoy's accent with ease. "Doctor, I had not thought to enquire before, but what is a Smurf? I do not recall such a lifeform in our travels." The question is posed as soberly as ever, but there's a certain glee in his expression that means Spock's fucking with them again. Probably. But who can tell?

Zahra's shoulders are shaking from trying to hold in her laughter as she leans against Kai, where they're standing guard at the door. Sulu's lips are firmly tucked inward in a grim line, and Chekhov is staring determinedly at his station display, pretending to be absorbed in navigational calculations for a straight line in empty space at warp 3. Uhura isn't even bothering to pretend, grinning fiercely and holding two fingers to Spock's in what Jim is sure is some kind of repressed Vulcan high five.

Jim pouts and puts his hands on his hips in what he's sure is a very captainly and heroic pose. He has authority and respect on this boat. He _does_.

Bones falls over cackling into the Captain's chair, his hands covering his face. Normally Jim lives for getting this kind of reaction out of him- seriously, dimples and laugh lines have been deployed, which should be considered weapons of mass destruction, at the very least of Jim's sanity. But not at his expense in front of the entire bridge crew!

The shiny lights of their futuristic spaceship glint off the ring on Bones' left ring finger, the answering weight feeling heavy on Jim's own. This is totally what Jim deserves for marrying his Radium Girl. Goddammit.

**The End. Or is it?**


End file.
